Aisubeki Dokusaisha A retelling
by AIRanimechiic
Summary: Reinterpretation of "Aisubeki Dokusaisha" by Taki Hajime with a background story for the characters. Contains yaoi, smut, incest, shota, rape, tentacle rape, assault, and bad language. Rated MA  not M


Reinterpretation of "Aisubeki Dokusaisha" by Taki Hajime (a one-shot in a yaoi manga) with a background story for the characters.

WARNING: Contains yaoi, smut, incest, shota, rape, tentacle rape, assault, and bad language. Read this ONLY if you are the worst and dirtiest kind of fangirl alive. I am not kidding.

When Yukihiko was eight, he wandered into the drawing room of his father, bored and curious. Then a huge shadow loomed over him. He turned around and there was his dad- furious, red-eyed, and clutching a bottle. His dad lunged for him and slammed him to the floor. He'd never seen his dad act like this before. His dad grabbed both of his hands and pinned them above his head. He screamed. Then his dad smothered his lips onto his mouth. Frightened, he opened his mouth to scream but a thick slimy thing rushed in before he could. His dad's tongue filled his entire mouth and suffocated him. In his confusion and fear, he did not notice that his dad had ripped off his shorts and boxers. When his dad finally removed his lips, he coughed as saliva dripped between their mouths, and some, onto his face. Suddenly he felt a draft between his legs. He looked down to notice that his entire lower body was... naked. Then, before he could squeeze his thighs together, he saw his dad's hand slip below his dick and between his legs. Then, he felt large fingers enter him. It shocked him, scared him, freaked him shitless. He let out a screech and his dad laughed... then jammed another finger in and further up his ass. His dad twisted his fingers inside him- his whole body twitched, shook, squirmed. He felt his dad fingering him inside, wiggling and twisting around, bringing blood rushing to his head. Something was wrong with his body and he became deathly afraid. This is not right! This is not right! I am not mother! The fingers finally slid out. By then, he had tears trickling down his face, his mouth wide with shock yet unable to scream. He quivered and shook and looked up into his dad's face. He heard something unzip. His dad smiled at his tortured face. This was just the beginning. Almost immediately, he felt something larger and slimier nudging between his already-strained ass. Then it made its way up into his butthole and further, forcing him to spread his legs wider and his hole to painfully open. It hurt. It hurt. It really hurt. It was pain beyond anything he'd remembered before. His dad thrusted into him- he screamed and, against his will, moaned. It delighted his dad because then he intruded deeper. For several more hours, his dad raped him like this over and over and over again, changing positions occasionally and ridding him of any dignity he had left. It petrified him

When his dad was through, he removed his dick and lay him down on the ground. Then he walked out and closed the sliding doors, leaving him in the dark. The pain. The pain. He curled up in a fetal position, finally able to cry softly and cringe in the immense pain coming from his waist. With his body and face stained, he looked up at the door and submitted to fate. He had a feeling this would not be the last time. It happened the next day in the same room. And the day after that and the next one after that. Each time he cried less. Each time he was more quiet. Each time he became more docile, more submissive. But each time, he also suffered more, not so much physically anymore, but psychologically.

By the time he entered middle school at thirteen, he had turned beautiful and twisted. He had started to sleep with gang members and random pedophiles on the street who offered money. According to them, he was "very good". According to himself, he was confused and ashamed. A year later, his father had to go on a business trip and he moved to his uncle's house for a while. His uncle's traditional-style mansion was much larger, the workers much nicer and life much less... painful. One day, he got a message that his father had died in an accident overseas. Two nights after his father's death he confessed to one of the servants what his dad had done and what he was doing now. The servant took pity, but agreed to Yukihiko's pained request not to let anyone knowor he'd run away to the Red Light district. The next day, all the workers quit, leaving his uncle and him living in the huge house by themselves. A few days later, after his father's funeral, he took one of the boxes containing his father's ashes and the [Japanese word for a dead person's picture] picture of his dead father into a broom cupboard. He went to his room, closed the door, changed into a thin kimono and was about to sleep when he heard a rustling noise. He opened his eyes and saw the box of his father's ashes in front of his futon. It started to open up on its own. He sighed. He should have known. His dad, even dead, would continue to haunt and pursue his body. He crawled out of the futon and loosened his obi. The ashbox opened completely and to his masked horror, several large and extended penises soared out and came for him. He closed his eyes and let it happen.

His uncle noticed his unusual paleness and limp movements. Yukihiko answered no questions about his health and a week later he collasped in the middle of P.E. The next day, his uncle arranged for him to be homeschooled in order to monitor his health and mental condition better. Before all the servants left, one of them had told him that in the past, his brother had raped Yukihiko daily since he was eight, a fact that, if true, urged him to worry more about his nephew. When his health turned for the worst, he called his friend, a practiced doctor, to take better care of him. Little did anyone know that, secretly each night, all night long, Yukihiko untied his obi, spread his legs, watched his father's ashbox open, and endured the group of penises that swarmed around his body, groping him, fucking him, inserting themselves through his every orfice. It was painful pleasure he submitted to every night. One day, his uncle had to go on an overnight business trip, leaving the doctor stay over and figure out what was really wrong with him. The doctor, Aihara, walked in just as Yukihiko managed to hide his father's ashbox inside his closet. There would be no tentacle rape tonight, he apologized silently and joyously. Aihara was friendly and asked simple questions, none too prying at first. His body itched and twitched for something to rub him, something to enter him. He looked at the doctor as he began to examine him. When he stood up to leave, he pulled him back and kissed him. He was stunned. The doctor made no movements to fuck him. So he pulled down his zipper and began licking him, then moved on to pull the doctor on top of him. Next thing they knew, Aihara was thrusting heavily into a panting Yukihiko. His body flushed each time he came inside him. He moaned and blushed as unwanted pleasure flooded throughout him. The ecstasy of sex traveled between them. This lasted for several minutes, Aihara thrusting and coming into his body, and he moaning and leaking in a drugged sort of pleasure. When they finished, he gasped in the horror of what he just did. On the other hand, he just retied his obi and crawled back into his futon as if all they've been doing was an examination. Does he like men?

The next day, he was still mortified at what he had done to the poor little kid. That night, after Aihara went to sleep, he pulled out his father's ashbox and apologized, hoping that nothing too dramamtic would happen. He glanced sideways as it began, and grimaced.

The next night, Aihara worked up the courage to confront Yukihiko and apologize... until he heard the same sounds Yukihiko had made two nights before and a heavy load of squelching. He pressed his ear against the door and frowned at the sounds going on inside. He slid the door slightly ajar and poked one eye to peak in. And almost screamed. There Yukihiko was, sitting on his disheveled futon, his kimono slipping off. His arms were suspended in the air by many giant penises. His bare legs were covered in cum. A penis was stroking his face, several others were forcing their way into his ass or his mouth. One wrapped around his dick, squeezed, and let go as he stiffened up. Then, suddenly, several penises pulled out of his body, faced him, and squirted. Yukihiko squinted at the cum. Then opened his mouth as another penis went in. He moaned and quivered silently as other penises thrusted into his body again or groped him all over, waiting for their turn to re-rape him. What the hell is this? he looked to the left and realized the penises' origin- Yukihiko's father's ashbox. This is just plain not right! He barged into the room and tried to pull off a few of the penises. Yukihiko half moaned, half cried Aihara's title in shock. There were too many in the way; some of them began to wrap around his neck, their cum and slime dripping over his clothes. Then he noticed that his father's [Japanese word for a dead person's picture] photo was lying next to the box of ashes. Yukihiko screamed something. He went for the picture and smashed it into pieces. All of the penises retreated at once. He hugged the shivering Yukihiko and stared, mortified once again at him, then the ashbox, and back.

Yukihiko stopped shivering. This was the first time anyone's saved him during a rape session.

The next day, they reburied all of his father's ashes and other remnants. His uncle admitted to a horified Aihara that he now confirmed that Yukihiko had been raped before, numerous times, and that his first had been Yukihiko's own father. Yukihiko was surprised and deeply embarassed at his own lack of masculinity, so he stuck up for his father.

"He really did love me, though. Even more than mom..."

THE END

(c) Taki Hajime. I do not own any of the characters or the original story.


End file.
